Definitely Not Mr. Darcy

foil-wrapped strip of condoms Emma had slipped her at the airport.

W ith al those hot Englishmen in tights you might need II these,” Emma had said.

“They won’t be wearing tights, Emma. That would be seventeenth century.”

“Bummer.”

“Anyway, I’m not going there for the men, and sex before marriage was a real taboo in Regency England. Have you not heard of Lydia Bennet?”

Emma dangled the condoms in front of her. “They’re strawberry-margarita flavored,” she singsonged.

She handed Chloe the condoms.

Chloe pushed them away. “What do you think? I’l be having a quickie in the back of a chaise-and-four?”

“I hope so, for your sake!”

Chloe tossed her head back. Resistance was futile. Emma tucked the condoms into Chloe’s bag.

“It’s your first trip without Abigail, and I think you should be going to Key West, not repressed England. Take them just in case, okay?”

“Al right. And just for the record, I have no desire to ever go to Key West.”

S he knew she couldn’t possibly bring such contraband with her, and as if she read her mind, Fiona made it clear.

“The crew searched al your bags and suitcases, Miss Parker, and only one item qualifies to go with you; everything else wil go under lock and key for three weeks.”

Was she more shocked by the fact that they searched her bags or that she could only bring one thing? It was hard to tel .

“You can bring this.” Fiona held up a red velvet bag and pul ed out Chloe’s diamond tiara, a family heirloom and her good-luck charm. “It’l be perfect for the bal .”

“So there wil be a bal ?”

“Yes, of course.”

Fiona handed the velvet bag to Chloe.

“My grandmother gave it to me for my seventeenth birthday.” Chloe had worn it in the audition video, as wel as the Jane Austen Society bal s she’d attended, but she’d never danced in it.

“It’s beautiful, and wil fit in your reticule. Now, if you wil simply hand me your purse.”

Chloe handed over her purse, minus her phone and charger.

Fiona held out her palm.

“What?”

“Everything is historical y accurate, Miss Parker. You know you can’t bring your phone. Regardless, there isn’t any electricity.”

Chloe couldn’t even process the thought of no electricity. “No phone? Not even just for texting or e- mailing?”

Fiona put a hand on her hip, or what would’ve been her hip if she had any. “It’l be here, safe under lock and key.”

Chloe sank down on the chaise, but the busk kept her from slumping over. “I can’t do this. I need to talk with Abigail.”

Fiona smiled. “Not to worry. Everyone has a direct line of communication through George for any emergency, day or night. Your family has George’s phone numbers. Send her a text that you’l write. You said yourself you’re keen on writing by hand. She can write you back. It’l be—

sweet.”

Chloe keyed in a last message to Abigail: “Wil snail mail u. Snail back. Can’t take phone. Cal George Maxton in emergency. Love u. B good.”

She hadn’t felt it til now, but she real y was across the ocean, thousands of miles from home.

Fiona zipped the phone in a plastic bag, just like al the rest of her things, as if Chloe were going to jail. The zip sliced through the air and the sudden silence of the room closed in as Fiona whisked the bag away.

Then the phone rang inside the bag, breaking the silence.

Chloe got goose bumps. What if it was Abigail and what if she couldn’t bear not to be in touch with her mom and what if she wanted her to come home—

“Wait! Stop!” Chloe hustled after Fiona, her boobs jostling in her stays and the cameramen jostling after her.

Fiona stood at a metal safe, closing the door, turning the key.

“Stop, Fiona! I need my phone! Give me my phone!!”

Chapter 3

M iss Parker,” George said as he raked his auburn hair with his